Compromised
by Vamprissqueen
Summary: SPOILERS. Natasha was a spy, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and, more recently, an Avenger. She was supposed to be the best of the best. But even the best had a weakness. After all, when it came down to it, she was only human. Natasha/Clint. Post-movie.


**WARNING! Beyond this point contains spoilers for the movie. So, if you haven't seen it yet (though something must be wrong with you if that's true) and you don't wanna know what happens, I suggest you don't continue. (Though, to be honest, I don't know why you'd be on here looking up fanfictions at all if you haven't yet seen the damn movie…just saying…) **

**So, anyway, I got the idea from watching Natasha and Clint's scene…you know, the one after she banged him over the head to clear his brainwashed mind? Sorry…I love Hawkeye to death but some sadistic part of me gave an actual snort when Natasha did that—and then laughed when he somewhat came to and she still knocked him out. All I could think was, 'Man, Clint's having a rough day…' **

**See? Sadistic, no? **

**Lolz, I kid, I kid. Just messing around. Like I said, I love Agent Barton to death! XD (How can you not? I was captivated by his character since his first scene! ;3)**

**This little work here was just something I thought of after seeing the movie for, like, the third time. Actually, I started piecing it together after the first time, but honestly, I had to see it again to try to get a good view of the depth of these two characters. (And because it was just so awesome I HAD to see it more than once!)**

**Admittedly, while I'm in love with this pairing, I'm even more in love with these characters themselves and the level of complexity and depth in their relationship. There's just so much to their mentality and how they act…I love them! I seriously do! (Perhaps Hawkeye more so than Black Widow, but you get the idea…lolz! XD)**

**HAWKEYE/BLACK WIDOW FTW!**

**Uh-huh, so…yeah…enjoy. Lemme know if it's at all believable. Oh, and this little tidbit of a story here is based on the idea that the Avengers did, in fact, NOT go their separate ways and are all living in Stark's Tower for the time being. You know, until they've recuperated from the big battle. XD **

**Okay, so NOW you may enjoy (I hope). **

* * *

**Compromised**

Natasha Romanoff was a spy. A member of S.H.I.E.L.D. and more recently, an Avenger. She was supposed to be the best of the best.

But right now, she certainly wasn't feeling so.

It had been roughly two days since the attack on Manhattan. Two days since the Avengers had joined forces, stopped Loki, and, quite frankly, saved the world. If anything, she should be feeling a sense of satisfaction, however brief.

Yet, all she felt was unease. And why was that?

Because, in all honestly, she was quite fairly certain she'd been compromised. It was both humiliating and frustrating to admit, but by this point, she argued it was even more so to deny it.

Natasha closed her eyes in an attempt to control herself, but instantly regretted it. Her breath caught in her throat as an image from her dreams—no, nightmares—replayed behind the shut lids. In half a second, her eyes were open again, heart hammering in her chest as her emotions got the better of her.

She'd always been nothing but professional. Emotions were poison; all they did was interfere, altering judgment and creating weaknesses. In order to act wisely, one's mind had to be clear, not clouded by their emotions. Spies were trained to detach themselves. They were trained to be impassive, emotionless, so nothing could get under their skins and weaken them…so nothing would compromise them.

And after everything Natasha had done in her life, she'd never let her emotions bother her in such a matter. Sure, she had some nightly torments of past experiences and kills, but she had her methods to dealing with them. She'd trained herself to forget, to detach herself, so that she would be ready for her next mission. Terror was something she didn't allow herself to feel (or if she did, it was to fuel her adrenaline).

Except lately, she believed she'd felt way too much of it…

Sighing in irritation, Natasha rose from her bed, finally deciding sleep was impossible. It was too stuffy in her room; she needed some air. Perhaps that would allow her to think clearly.

She was sure she'd be fine if her nightmares were filled with an attacking alien army or battling a psychopathic wannabe god. Those she could get over. She'd even be fine if she would awake in sheer terror with her mind believing she was back on the Helicarrier, powerless against an enraged, Hulk-ed out Banner.

Such things were understandable. Yes, she wouldn't like it, but she didn't have training against them. They were beyond assassinations, tortures, undercover work, and anything regular S.H.I.E.L.D. missions could throw at her. She didn't have superpowers. She wasn't a genius with a suit of armor. She wasn't a superhero. When it came down to it, she was only a human with a very specific skill set. And nothing in her training had prepared her for any of what happened recently. Especially her experience running from the Hulk. (She'd been so shaken afterwards it was only reasonable she would relive the experience in her dreams…)

But it wasn't that kind of terror that kept her awake. When she shut her eyes, she didn't see herself running from anything. There were no aliens, no gods, no Hulk.

Instead, when her eyes closed she saw those haunting, unnatural, icy blue irises of a Clint she no longer knew and the horrific, disturbing scene Loki had promised. She saw herself helpless and afraid, pleading…breaking…dying. She saw herself slaughtered outright in every brutal, cruel, _heartless _way imaginable…every way she could possibly fear. Just as Loki had described. Just as a brainwashed Clint would know how to do.

And every time she opened her eyes again, her ears rang with the agonized scream of her partner as Loki broke his control over him and he realized what he'd done.

It was ridiculous and unprofessional and utterly terrifying. She shouldn't have been bothered by it this much. It was only Loki's empty threat; they'd already stopped him and made sure it were never put to action. It made no sense that only a few mere _words_ from that bastard's mouth were enough to drive her into such a state of unrest. It was ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! She was better than this. She _had_ to be better than this. She'd always driven away her nightmares no matter the situation.

So why was this one—which didn't even occur in reality—still haunting her?

Natasha shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She padded silently though the halls, for once glad she was in Tony's semi-completed tower instead of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s flying fortress. It was true she was more accustomed to the noise of the Helicarrier, but in light of the recent events, there was no replacement for good, old-fashioned silence.

There were no signs of movement (not that there would be since it was still very early). Her internal clock pegged it to be around three or four in the morning. She hadn't bothered checking the digital one back in her room; she didn't want to know the actual time.

As she stepped into the main living area, she was hit instantly by a cool breeze. The door to the balcony was open. She didn't have to guess who was out there. It's where she figured he'd be. If she couldn't get any sleep, there was no way in hell Clint would. He'd been through the worst of all of them.

Though they had each taken a turn reassuring him no one blamed him for his actions under Loki's influence, she knew he was still weighed down by the incredible guilt. He may be able to fool the rest of the team, but she knew him too well.

Which is why it made perfect sense that he was perched outside on the balcony edge.

Natasha stood watching him for a moment, immediately noticing from the way he sat that his injuries were still troubling him. His posture was awkward, obviously favoring one side, and one shoulder seemed quite reluctant to move. It concerned her, but was understandable after all the physically straining events they'd been through lately. They'd battled and got beaten around by an entire army, he'd busted through a glass window, she'd banged his head into a railing (then punched him to, you know, completely knock him out)…it was fair to say he'd been dealt much physical abuse lately.

But that wasn't all. What concerned her more was the _way_ he sat there, legs dangling helplessly off the balcony's edge, body so very still, head down—apparently finding more interest in his hands than the blinking lights of the city around them. Someone else may not have been able to pick up meaning behind such subtle displays, but Natasha knew him too well to ignore it.

After everything that had happened, the weight was too much for him. He was as much mentally exhausted as he was physically.

She hated seeing him this way, hated seeing him blame himself for everything Loki made him do. And she hated Loki so much for doing this to him.

Natasha let out a long, silent breath as she tried to calm her rage. It wouldn't help at the moment. Right now, Clint needed her. Just as she needed him. After all, it didn't matter what nightmares Loki's words caused her to have. She would always trust Clint; he was the only person she could completely trust with her life.

He knew she was standing there. She knew he did. But at the same time, neither of them acknowledged it. They didn't need to.

Instead, she found herself moving forward, stepping out into the night air. Then, she was sitting beside him, legs swinging off the edge alongside his. She shifted her gaze to glance at him. It was another moment before he met it.

Clint's eyes betrayed everything he was feeling, even though most wouldn't have been able to decipher it. It was only because he was her partner, because she knew him as she knew herself, that Natasha was able to see the pain and guilt hiding behind those blue-grey orbs.

She knew he blamed himself for everything and would continue to do so despite what they told him. She knew he felt responsible for the death of every agent, including Coulson, while he was under Loki's control. She knew, like herself, he was plagued with hellish nightmares that left him gasping and shaking in the middle of the night, heart racing and mind numb.

In the end, he was as haunted as she was, as broken as she was. But that's why they were a team.

Her hand had moved of its own accord. Before she'd even acknowledged it, her fingers were laced with his. It wasn't her typical reaction and, had she been aware, she probably wouldn't have consciously done so. However, given the circumstances, perhaps this situation called for more than just her constant presence…

It was her (rare) silent message that he wasn't alone. He would never be alone.

Clint's gaze flickered to their joined hands and for a moment, it seemed to surprise him. It looked like he wanted to say something. But then, his lips broke into a small smile—not his usual grin, but a genuine, appreciative smile. He understood.

There would be a time for words, but right now, they weren't necessary. Right now, her hand in his was all the comfort each of them needed. They would get through this because no matter how alone both of them were, they were alone together.

It's the way it had always been. They were a team, connected just as their hands were now.

Natasha broke from his gaze and turned back to stare out at the lights of the city's nightlife. It was true that she had been trained to avoid connections, avoid attachment. She'd built up an armor thick enough to keep everything, every_one_, out. That way, nothing could be used against her.

But somehow, Clint had slipped through some unseen cracks. And now, despite everything she knew, she would always value his life above her own. She would always be there for him. As he would for her.

They needed each other. No matter what happened, no matter what would be thrown their way, Natasha was positive she would never feel right unless Clint had her back. Since the day he'd made that decision not to kill her, she had somehow known that to be true.

This was why the nightmares bothered her so. Loki had managed to find exactly what would get under her skin. He'd found her Achilles' heel…the one person in the world that had the ability to destroy her. But she would die before that ever happened. She would die before she ever saw Clint suffer like this again.

Stealing another glace at her partner, Natasha felt the last fears from her nightmares drift away. Just being with him had this effect on her.

Clint was looking out at the city now, instead of his hands. He seemed more at ease than before. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, reminding him she was still there. She would always be there.

And when he looked at her again, she knew she had indeed been compromised.

But she supposed that was inevitable. One way or another, it was bound to happen eventually. Even the most trained agents developed a weakness.

After all, when it came down to it, they were only human. And all humans were flawed.

* * *

**Sooo…first Avenger fic…how did it go? I tried to get into the mind of Natasha, but I'm not sure how well of a job I did. I fear some of "me" may have slipped in without me noticing…aw well, it was fun to write. ****Also, anything that seemed…_repetitive_ was my attempt at Natasha's thoughts and we all tend to think repetitively until we come to terms with whatever's troubling us (in this case, Natasha acknowledging she has a weakness). **

**I thought about adding dialogue, but decided against it. One of the things I really adore about Natasha and Clint is that they understand each other so well. I feel they don't even _need_ words. Or, at least, that's what I got (after seeing the damn movie so many times, lolz XD). I'm SO jealous; I wish I had that kind of partnership with someone… **

**Anyhoo…so, yeah. There's my ficlet! May add to it, may continue (maybe with some dialogue), may not…not sure yet. **

**Hmm…sooooo…who's also obsessed with the Avengers now? Any fellow Hawkeye fans out there? Or do you prefer the sarcastic wit of the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? Or perhaps you're like my sister and favor the Captain? Or his ass because apparently that's all she requires…ahem, where was I? Oh! OR maybe you're a fan of the hammer-wielding god wearing mother's drapes? OR are you all for the man with the serious anger management issues? **

**Me? Well, like I said, I've got a thing for the archer. ;D**

**Of course, that's for us females. If you're a guy, well, you've got the Black Widow…not that you'll be complaining about that (my brother certainly didn't XD). **

**Okay, I'm done being crazy weird fan-girl (for now). I'm signing off in an Avenged manner (however that is)! X3 **

**- Lex **


End file.
